


my favorite things i cannot have

by staygame



Category: fromis_9 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 22:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20320870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staygame/pseuds/staygame
Summary: "So, you called me just to watch you eat spaghetti in the tub?" Nakyung asks."I called you to eat room service on my ex-boyfriend's dime," Chaeyoung corrects, and yeah, that makes more sense.





	my favorite things i cannot have

**Author's Note:**

> Written for GG Jukebox, inspired by "Party for One" by Carly Rae Jepsen. 
> 
> thanks r for looking this over! also faintly inspired by age of youth and the belle epoque house.

The door to the hotel room is cracked when Nakyung arrives. In a horror movie, this would be the setup to Nakyung stepping in and finding Chaeyoung's body splayed out on the bed, throat slashed and blood seeping into the crisp, white comforter. Instead, Nakyung knocks on the door and Chaeyoung calls out, "It's open!"

"You can't just leave the door open like that," Nakyung says as she ditches her shoes in the entryway. "Like, what if I'd been a murderer."

"I knew you would be here soon and _I_ wanted to take a bath."

Nakyung steps into the bathroom. Chaeyoung is neck deep in sudsy bathwater, with a stack of plush towels serving as a stool for the plate of room service spaghetti. Her hair is tied up in a bun, the baby hairs at the back of her neck wet. The surface of the sudsy water is only broken by Chaeyoung's knee, rising up like an island among the bubbles. Living in a house with seven other girls, Nakyung has seen Chaeyoung naked more times than she can count, but not like this.

Of course, the image of Chaeyoung naked in the bathtub is made somewhat ridiculous as she leans over the edge of it, twirling noodles around her fork.

"So, you called me just to watch you eat spaghetti in the tub?" Nakyung asks. She sits on the toilet across from Chaeyoung. The bathroom is all marble and gold accents, suggesting money that Nakyung knows Chaeyoung does not have. 

"I called you to eat room service on my ex-boyfriend's dime," Chaeyoung corrects, and yeah, that makes more sense.

"Ex since when?"

"Since I found out he was cheating on me with his coworker," Chaeyoung says breezily. 

"Oh," Nakyung says. She watches the smooth mechanics of Chaeyoung's throat as she swallows her bite of spaghetti. She hadn't liked Kim Sehong that much anyway. He was five years older than them, the son of someone important at Korean Air, and he had a tendency to boss Chaeyoung around. How someone like Chaeyoung, bossy enough herself, managed to put up with it for four months, was something Nakyung didn't understand.

She leans over, reaching for the fork. "Give me a meatball."

"Get your own. No meatballs unless you get in the tub with me," Chaeyoung says. When Nakyung refuses, Chaeyoung kicks water at her, until the bottom half of her jeans is wet and, annoyed, Nakyung leaves the bathroom.

There's no point in wearing wet pants, so Nakyung takes them off, sitting on the king sized bed in her underwear and t-shirt. She picks up the TV remote and flips through channels until she finds an episode of _Knowing Brothers_. It's halfway over when Chaeyoung emerges from the bathroom. Her hair is wrapped up in a towel and, like Nakyung, she's only dressed in a t-shirt, her skin pink and smooth.

"Have you looked at the room service menu? They have Western food," Chaeyoung says, settling into the bed with her legs tucked against Nakyung's. The downy pillows cocoon them both.

"I don't want to take advantage of anyone, even if he's your ex."

"Come on, you always hated him," Chaeyoung says. She reaches over Nakyung to grab the menu from the bedside table. The skin of her neck smells like roses, Nakyung notes. "But then again, you don't like any of my boyfriends." 

It's uncomfortably close to the truth. When Nakyung met Chaeyoung at the end of their second year, they were fast friends. Chaeyoung was wholly unlike anyone she'd ever met—loud-mouthed and unrestrained, with a tender heart underneath it all. She was the first one to cry at graduation, the one who'd held Nakyung's hands in hers and promised, "If we go to the same university, we have to live together."

When Chaeyoung started dating Yongbuk in the fall, Nakyung didn't know what to do with the weird feelings that bubbled up in her chest. Yongbuk was perfectly nice, had a nice group of friends, seemed to genuinely enjoy Chaeyoung, and Nakyung _detested_ him. But they broke up before Christmas and Nakyung stopped thinking about how it made her feel to see Chaeyoung arm-in-arm with someone else. 

"They have steak," Chaeyoung says, pointing to the menu. "You love steak."

"I love steak," Nakyung repeats. She can feel herself relenting. If Lee Chaeyoung jumped off a bridge, wouldn't she follow?

"So order it. I want Sehong's dad to really lay into him when he gets the credit card bill," Chaeyoung says, and tucks her chin against Nakyung's collarbone.

It was Nakyung who found the sharehouse near campus with two open beds. The apartment took up the second floor of a small building set atop a hill, so that when Nakyung stepped into the space for the first time, she immediately knew it was where she wanted to live, if only for the view. 

"Sorry, the seniors are moving out of two different rooms, so you won't be able to share with your friend," Lee Saerom had said in her slow, methodical tone. She was so pretty that Nakyung felt a little breathless just looking at her. 

"That's fine," Nakyung said. "We could use some time apart."

Nakyung moved into the bunk bed below Lee Seoyeon, another '00 liner who'd gone to school with the '99 kids, with a laugh you could hear coming a mile away. The twin bed in the room was occupied by Saerom herself. On the other side of the hall were two more bedrooms. Chaeyoung was, as though fated, assigned to live with the two noisiest girls in the apartment, Song Hayoung and Park Jiwon. To balance it out, there was Jang Gyuri and Roh Jisun in the next room, the domestic unit. 

All eight of them had dinner together the night that they moved in. The table wasn't large enough to hold all of them, so they spilled out across the floor, leaning over each other to reach banchan and servings of galbi. There was an air of familiarity that Nakyung couldn't help but feel wrapped up in. She dropped her head against Chaeyoung's shoulder, watching Seoyeon and Jiwon argue about who had contributed more to dinner preparation. Gyuri said it was a moot point, because they all knew Hayoung and Jisun had done the heavy lifting. Jiwon let out a whine so loud that Hayoung stuffed a perilla leaf in her mouth to shut her up. 

There, with Chaeyoung at her side, Nakyung felt like home.

"I want to throw a party," Chaeyoung announces as she enters Nakyung's room. Her face appears around the makeshift bed sheet curtain that Nakyung has pulled shut a moment later, eyes wide with manic energy. 

Nakyung pauses her rom-com and dutifully scoots over, making room for Chaeyoung in her bed. Chaeyoung curls her long legs around Nakyung, a familiar intimacy that somehow still serves to make Nakyung's heart beat a little faster. "Why do you want to throw a party?" 

"I need to meet new boys," Chaeyoung says, and when Nakyung rolls her eyes, she adds, "You can meet new girls."

"Leave me alone," Nakyung says. 

"Never," Chaeyoung says, biting Nakyung's shoulder.

Chaeyoung is quiet for a while, long enough that Nakyung thinks about un-pausing her movie, but it's not an uncomfortable silence. With eight people occupying the same amount of space taken up by Nakyung and her parents in their own apartment, real silence is rare. Even at night, Seoyeon snores, a low humming noise that cuts in and out when Seoyeon shifts in her sleep. 

"Saerom won't agree to it," Chaeyoung says after a while. Nakyung feels Chaeyoung's breath in soft puffs against her neck. "You have to ask her for me."

"She's not going to listen to me either," Nakyung points out.

"She will. You just have to be like 'Saerom unnie, please let us throw a party,'" Chaeyoung says, pitching her voice high and rounding out her syllables in a clear attempt to imitate Nakyung's aegyo. 

Nakyung shoves her elbow into Chaeyoung's side. "That's not how I sound!"

This only eggs Chaeyoung on and she continues to whine, "Saerom unnie we promise not to make too much of a mess," until Nakyung forces a hand over Chaeyoung's mouth.

Chaeyoung, predictably, licks Nakyung's palm.

"You're disgusting," Nakyung tells her.

The funny thing is—Nakyung and Saerom didn't get along at first. They were never hostile, only awkward, like they were riding on two discordant rhythms. It felt like Nakyung was constantly bumping up against Saerom, her elbows and shoulders suddenly taking up more space than Nakyung remembered. But it was Saerom that Nakyung first came out to, more because Saerom was there than anything else. Nakyung felt like she was testing the words, feeling the shape of them in her mouth. "I think I'm a lesbian," she'd said out loud. 

Saerom set her book down carefully, taking her time to slip her bookmark between the pages. Then she looked at Nakyung, without any judgment, and said, "Thank you for telling me." 

Nakyung nodded. She remembers her hands shaking underneath her blanket. 

"Do you want a hug?" Saerom asked, and Nakyung nodded again. They sat in Nakyung's bed, Saerom's arms around Nakyung's thin shoulders, until Nakyung's breathing evened out. She'd felt the age difference acutely then, as though the three years between them stretched out like a lifetime. They stayed like that until Seoyeon burst through the door and Saerom peeled herself away, distracting Seoyeon so that Nakyung wouldn't have to explain. That afternoon seemed to forge an understanding between them. Things got easier. 

"I'll ask her," Nakyung says. Chaeyoung thanks her by licking the inside of her palm again and when Nakyung presses her wet hand to Chaeyoung's face, she squeals and wriggles away. 

Saerom considers Nakyung's request for a few moments ("It won't be that big," Nakyung rushes to qualify as Saerom thinks), but in the end, she agrees. It's easier for Chaeyoung to convince the other unnies. Hayoung and Jiwon are extroverted enough to like parties, Gyuri is too easy going to care. Seoyeon starts sending out invites to her various group chats as soon as Chaeyoung brings up the idea. Jisun says she doesn't mind, but will probably fight the first person to accidentally bump into her. 

The night of the party, the eight of them gather around the table, bottles of soju lined up next to six packs of beer. "Chaeyoungie, pour us some shots," Jiwon demands, drawing out Chaeyoung's name until the last syllable is just a squeak.

"Nakyung is the real maknae," Chaeyoung points out, grinning smugly at Nakyung across the table. June to Chaeyoung's May.

Nakyung makes a show of it, pouring shots with exaggerated etiquette, holding the bottle daintily in both hands. She drank in high school with Chaeyoung a few times and at a few college events, but Nakyung doesn't drink all that often. She forgets how smooth soju is, how easily it slides down her throat before she taps the empty glass down onto the table.

"Party time!" Hayoung calls out in English.

By eleven, Nakyung has been roped into two _poktanju_ shots, first with Seoyeon's classmates and then with Chaeyoung and the boy she's currently flirting with. The boy has hair that's dyed a dark color halfway between blue and gray, depending on the light. Chaeyoung shows off, using an empty shot glass to create a domino that causes the other shots to topple into the full glasses of beer. The trick leaves a foamy mess behind, but Chaeyoung's boy seems impressed and Nakyung watches him corral her away, a hand against her lower back as they go.

The living room is hardly big enough for the crowd that's arrived and Nakyung joins the guests spilling out onto the terrace. She spends twenty minutes talking to one of Saerom's friends, a pretty Singaporean girl who is impressed by Nakyung's rusty Mandarin.

"Tasha!" A tall girl calls out from the doorway, and Tasha presses her hand to Nakyung's arm apologetically before leaving.

Nakyung wishes she'd grabbed a can of Coke earlier, something to hold in her hands. She feels restless as she leans against the railing, looking out to the street below. There's an ox bone stew restaurant at the end of the winding road and Nakyung can see old men sitting at the open window, the interior glowing yellow behind them. She doesn't notice that someone has draped themselves along the railing beside her until she hears, "See something interesting?"

"Not really," Nakyung says, turning her head.

Bin Haneul had been a third year when Nakyung moved into town, casual friends with Chaeyoung. Nakyung remembers Haneul as mildly aggressive, with a broad jaw that jutted out like she was poised to say something sharp. She's prettier now, her face slimmer and her blouse is mostly open at the top, showing off the dip of her collarbones. Her cheeks are pink, Nakyung notes, though she isn't sure if it's makeup or the flush of alcohol.

"This neighborhood is nice," Haneul notes.

"Yeah, I like it," Nakyung says.

"I have a one room near campus and it's a total dump."

Haneul has turned to look at Nakyung now. Nakyung is aware that she is being assessed and feels her face getting hot. "I'm not surprised that you moved in with Chaeyoung," Haneul continues. "You guys were always together in school."

"We still are," Nakyung says. "We're best friends."

"You know, I always thought that you might be more than friends," Haneul says, and Nakyung feels her heartbeat pick up, a nervous drumming against her chest.

"It was never like that," Nakyung says.

"Maybe I was just jealous," Haneul. She says it with a laugh, but when Nakyung looks over, something in her expression makes it clear that she's not joking.

A girl at the other end of the terrace shouts something at another guest and Nakyung looks over her shoulder for the source of the noise, distracted. When she turns back, Haneul has stepped away, half-turned toward the door. Haneul says, "Anyway, it was good to see you."

"Wait," Nakyung says. She doesn't have a plan when she opens her mouth, but whatever challenge Haneul was throwing at her, Nakyung feels compelled to rise and meet it. "I'm a lesbian. Just so you know."

Haneul nods, slowly, looking Nakyung up and down. "Good to know," she says, then fishes her phone out of her crossbody. "Here, give me your number."

Nakyung adds her number to Haneul's contacts and their fingers, sticky with humidity, touch when she gives it back.

In the kitchen, Nakyung drinks a cup of cold water and immediately fills it up again. She can count the number of people to whom she's come out so far on two hands and all of them live here. Except for Haneul, and it hadn't been nearly as hard as she'd expected. She smiles to herself, pleased with her own bravery.

"Who were you talking to? Outside?"

This time it's a familiar voice. Chaeyoung is swaying when Nakyung turns around, eyes narrowed. Her bangs have gone piecey with sweat and Nakyung reaches up to fix them automatically. "Bin Haneul, she went to high school with us."

"I remember her," Chaeyoung says. "She's gay, you know?"

Nakyung pulls her hand back. She can't figure out Chaeyoung's tone, more cutting than Nakyung is used to hearing aimed at her. "Yeah, well so am I."

"So were you talking to her like that? Like you wanted to date her?" Chaeyoung presses. 

"We talked for like five minutes, jeez," Nakyung says. She doesn't mean for the aegyo to come out, the way her voice goes squeaky, but maybe it's a defense mechanism. "What about the guy you were with? Is he the future Mr. Lee Chaeyoung?"

Chaeyoung barrels right through the attempt to change the subject. "I saw you give her your number."

"Why do you care?" 

"I don't," Chaeyoung says, "I just don't get what you see in her."

"What is your problem?" Nakyung snaps. "Remember, you told me the point of this party was so I could meet girls and look, I met one."

"I just mean, is that really the kind of girl you're into?" Chaeyoung asks, and Nakyung has had enough of the interrogation. She pushes past Chaeyoung, clipping the edge of her shoulder on the way.

Nakyung attempts to hide out in her bedroom, but to her lack of surprise, Chaeyoung follows close behind. Despite how thin the walls are, the music outside has been reduced to the low thump of bass, drowned out by overlapping conversations. 

"I just don't see why you need to date anyone right now when you have me," Chaeyoung says. 

"Because you're not my girlfriend!" Nakyung shouts abruptly. "Even if I wanted you to be." Her heart feels like it's worked its way into Nakyung's throat and she's choking on it. That was not something she meant to say.

Chaeyoung starts to say something, but Nakyung throws her hands up. "Can you just go?"

And this time, Chaeyoung leaves.

Turns out, it's not that difficult to avoid someone who lives across the hall. Nakyung is grateful that it's a Sunday and that she doesn't have any pressing homework, so she doesn't feel guilty for indulging the urge to stay in bed and watch Final Destination movies. She only comes out for lunch when she hears Chaeyoung leave for a study date and then she slinks back to her bed, dragging her blanket behind her. 

Seoyeon joins her in the evening, laughing loudly and hoarsely at some of the more unfortunate deaths, which makes Nakyung laugh in return. Seoyeon is a warm presence beside her, fuzzy socks pressed against Nakyung's ankle, her arm draped over Nakyung's waist.

"Lee Seoyeon," Chaeyoung carols from the hallway.

Seoyeon slips out of bed and Nakyung watches her open the door just wide enough for her head to fit through. "Hey, what's up?" she asks in a quiet voice.

Nakyung can't quite catch what Chaeyoung asks, her own voice to match Seoyeon's, but she hears the end of it, "-hang out? Is she okay?"

"She'll be okay," Seoyeon says, "just give her some space."

Chaeyoung says something else, but Seoyeon cuts her off, surprisingly firm. "I know. Just some time, got it?"

While Seoyeon shuts the door and returns to bed, Nakyung presses pause on her laptop. "Thanks for that," she says. She hadn't explained what happened to Seoyeon, unsure if she could even put into words _what_ had happened, only that if felt shitty and unfairly revealing. Seoyeon hasn't pried.

"I've got you," Seoyeon says. She presses the spacebar again, death by tanning bed resuming on the screen, but Seoyeon is looking at Nakyung. "Don't worry."

Two days later, Chaeyoung corners her by the fridge. "Can we talk?" she asks. Nakyung wants to turn her down on principle, but the rare vulnerability in Chaeyoung's tone reluctantly pulls at her heartstrings. 

Nakyung sets her yogurt back on the fridge shelf. "Yeah, okay."

They go out onto the terrace. Nakyung sits across from Chaeyoung, tucking her feet up in her chair. It's early evening, the golden hour, and the sun is casting a warm glow across Chaeyoung's face. Nakyung is annoyed with herself for noticing. 

"I'm sorry," Chaeyoung says. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I was being selfish."

"Selfish about _what_, though? We're always going to be friends, you know that right?"

"Hey, I spent two days working on this speech," Chaeyoung complains. "Don't interrupt me."

Nakyung huffs, but she gestures for Chaeyoung to continue.

"Do you know what every boyfriend I've had has whined about? That I'd rather spend time with you than them. And you never dated anyone so I never had to split your time with anyone else, so when I saw you getting that girl's number it was like, oh yeah. I am going to have to share your time with someone else at some point." Chaeyoung pauses then, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "So that's the first part."

"What's the second part?"

"You have to answer me first. Did you mean it? When you said 'even if you wanted me to be'?"

Nakyung voice threatens to break. "Chaeyoung," she says, quiet. 

"Because it's not just about your time, I realized."

"Don't say stuff if you're not serious."

Chaeyoung smacks a hand down against the chair's armrest. "Let me finish, I'm not joking." Her indignation makes Nakyung smile despite herself, a laugh eked out from the back of her throat. "It wasn't just that I was selfish. It's that I hated thinking about you dating anyone, ever. When I said you don't need to date anyone because you have me, I realize now that it's because I want you to date me." 

"That's not how this works," Nakyung says and fuck, she is definitely going to cry. 

"Who says it's not?" Chaeyoung asks. "Lee Nakyung, I want to date you if you want to date me."

Nakyung covers her face with her hands. It's not this simple. There's no universe where the gay girl's crush on her straight best friend gets reciprocated, or at least not one that Nakyung resides in. There are tears stinging the corners of her eyes as she squeezes them shut. 

Then, in one furious motion, Chaeyoung is out of her chair and grabbing at Nakyung's hands. She bends over, kissing Nakyung with enough force that it knocks her back against the chair. Nakyung lets herself melt into it, lets herself be kissed, until she realizes she is crying onto Chaeyoung's face and she also hasn't taken a breath in about thirty seconds. 

Tenderly, Chaeyoung runs a thumb along the curve of Nakyung's jaw as she pulls away. "Stop crying, you idiot," Chaeyoung says. 

"Stop making me cry," Nakyung retorts as she wipes her face. 

"Do you believe me now?" Chaeyoung asks, like it's that simple. Maybe to her it is.

But Chaeyoung doesn't lie, not as a general rule, and she's looking at Nakyung with round, pitiful eyes that suggest if Nakyung doesn't accept her confession in the next minute, she will fling herself onto the ground in protest. Nakyung wants to believe her. 

Nakyung reaches out, tugging Chaeyoung in by the neck of her hoodie, and kisses her. Without the shock of it clouding her senses, Nakyung can properly feel the softness of Chaeyoung's lips and the way their mouths slot together. It feels like what Nakyung has been waiting for all along. 

As soon as they pull apart, there is a banging on glass. Nakyung turns to see half of their housemates with their faces pressed to the sliding door, watching them with enthusiastic faces. Seoyeon gives them two thumbs up, while Jiwon makes loud whooping sounds. Hayoung, who has brought her guitar along with her, strums out a chord and sings out, "Finally!"

**Author's Note:**

> \- inspired largely by the mv and the fabulous person eating spaghetti in the bathtub - everything else spiraled from there  
\- title from "snowflake" by middle kids  
\- apologies to bin hanuel's likeness. she went to school with chaeng and is around the same age so she seemed like a good pick. also chaeng's first bf is felix because i asked r for a nice '00 idol.  
\- i'm still not super comfortable with my fromis characterization so feedback is welcome!  
\- talk to me about fromis on twitter: @meojeoli


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